True happiness is of a retired nature, and an enemy to pomp and noise it arises, in the first place, from the enjoyment of one's self, and in the next from the friendship and conversation of a few select companions.
We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over so in a series of kindness there is at last one which makes the heart run over.
We have heard much of the phrase, peace and friendship. This phrase, in expressing the aspiration of America, is not complete. We should say instead, peace and friendship, in freedom. This, I think, is America's real message to the rest of the world.
What a wretched lot of old shrivelled creatures we shall be by-and-by. Never mind- the uglier we get in the eyes of others, the lovelier we shall be to each other that has always been my firm faith about friendship.
What importance can we attach to the things of this world? Friendship? It disappears when the one who is liked comes to grief, or the one who likes becomes powerful. Love? it is deceived, fleeting, or guilty. Fame? You share it with mediocrity or crime. Fortune? Could that frivolity be counted a blessing? All that remains are those so-called happy days that flow past unnoticed in the obscurity of domestic cares, leaving man with the desire neither to lose his life nor to begin it over.